


P.S. I'm Not Gay!!

by joetrick (plaguebetweenus)



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Depression, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Slow Burn, Van Days
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaguebetweenus/pseuds/joetrick
Summary: Patrick and Joe find themselves starting to get closer, Pete is partly to blame.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Joe Trohman
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we don't even have arby's in my country.

The guitar buzzed beneath his fingers, the room was all dark with bright spotlights focused on them, they were the centre of attention. He’d forgotten his pick this time, he knew that his fingertips would be as red as the guitar by the time he was done, an anxious thrum ran beneath his skin. He could barely see the crowd, his vision obscured by the blur of the blue knit cap on his head, but he could smell the room, he could taste the tang of the metal strings on the notes that he pulled and skimmed across. The mustiness of the basement room mixed badly with the pit of sweaty, screaming teenagers. He could feel the energy coursing through his veins like shots of adrenaline, people shouting back words that he wrote like he was their god and they were just prophets spreading his word.

“Patrick!”

The set was over, he knew now that it was all gone, the energy and the heat from performing, the warmth that it gave him and how it made him feel like he was on cloud 9, it was such a contrast to what he was left with after, the heavy and weighted ache that would fill his chest like water, Patrick would say it almost felt like drowning but he had no experience with that so he couldn’t really compare the two. Patrick looks over at the source of the sound, he knows who it is before he even has to look though, he’d know that voice anywhere.

“Set’s over, time to pack it up.”

It’s Joe, Joe with the wispy curls and the pretty face, Joe that made him join the band and made him be able to feel _this_ , the rush of adrenaline when he performs, the way that it leaves him lightheaded after, like the whole experience was surreal, the way that his throat feels raw after singing songs that he doesn’t believe in but hopes others might find meaning in. Joe that-

“Hey man, are you alright?”

The bitter tang in Patrick’s chest bites at his heart at the question. Joe’s giving Patrick a concerned look now, he can’t believe that he got stuck in his own head again _and_ he was thinking about Joe. The question was simple enough but Patrick doesn’t like the way that the lie falls off his tongue so easily, so effortlessly, like all he was made to do was lie and to tell fallacies just to put other peoples’ minds at ease. 

“Yeah sorry, just had to take a moment, it’s the post-concert rush you know?”

Patrick hopes Joe believes him with the way he nods back in understanding. Patrick slings the guitar strap off his neck and carries it by the neck to stand next to Joe. They walk back to the van side by side as if they’re tied together by strings, strings that won’t let them leave each other’s sides, strings that compel them to stay, strings that aren’t like the metal ones on the guitar but they’re soft and stitching their way in.

“Thanks for lending me the guitar man, I really appreciate it.” Patrick speaks and shows his widest grin to Joe at that moment because he really means what he says this time, it makes his stomach fill up with butterflies, like the great monarch ones that he use to stare at from the small windows of his room back in Chicago, when he thinks about how Joe trusted him enough to let him borrow it.

The moons on the neck of the guitar glinted when the sun peeked through the sky, it was overcast and covered in an angry grey. 

“No problem dude, you know I wouldn’t do it for just anyone though.”

Joe turns his lips up at the corners, his lip ring going up with it, it was something so small that you’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention, Patrick watched the way Joe’s eyes softened under the sky. Joe wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t do it for “just anyone”, Joe may be one of the most laid back people that Patrick knew but when it came to his guitars he was so protective of them that it became scary, you’re a dead man walking if you touch one of Joe’s guitars.

When the pair reach the van they load it up with haste as they feel the first small drops of rain sink into their skin. Patrick tumbles into the back of the van next to Pete and Joe hops into the driver seat. Pete hums softly next to him and he can feel his breath on the side of his neck from how close they are. Patrick can tell Pete is happy and that he knows something that Patrick doesn’t, Patrick chalks it up to how good the concert went, there were no stages collapsing under the weight of the overeager crowd or police showing up after their performance. Patrick lets a breath of soft air escape him as he begins to feel his eyelids drooping, he lays his head in Pete’s lap. He can feel Pete’s hands threading through the strands on his head as they start to play with his hair, 

“Get some sleep, you need it.”

Patrick hums back in contentment, it was just what he was planning to do. He can feel the blanket of sleep begin to cover him, his mind drifting further into the darkness behind his eyes, he’s out before he can even think of counting sheep.

**********

Patrick wakes up the next morning with sleep clogging his eyes, he knows he’s tired and didn’t sleep long enough from the way his eyes feel wrong in his sockets. A warm presence wrapped around the back of him draws his attention, his eyes glazed over with a blur as if he’s looking through the unfocused lense of a camera. Patrick knows that it’s Pete because he’s cuddly like that, he thinks about waking him up to get him to move but it’s too early and he figures Pete needs the sleep more than he does. Patrick is not a morning person so when he hears Joe’s voice from the front of the van, loud and demanding his attention, mere seconds later he’s definitely not happy.

“Rise and shine, motherfuckers!”

Patrick had never wanted to punch anyone in the face more than Joe in that moment. The urge soon fades though, his mind too tired to withhold feelings of anger when all it really wants him to do is fall back into a slumber. Patrick, feeling groggy, wipes his hand across blurry eyes and proceeds to glare daggers at Joe.

“Hey, what the fuck was that Trohman, there’s people sleeping in here.” He groaned as he pulled himself up to lean into a sitting position, his back ached from not sleeping the right way.

“We’re at the diner, we’re going to get something to eat.” Andy was the one to answer Patrick’s question, he was always the most level headed one in the group, “wise beyond his years” you could say, but he would probably deny it.

Patrick and Pete piled out the back of the van (one more gracious than the other) and headed toward the doors of the diner. The early morning sun gleamed at him from just above the roof of the diner and Patrick raised an arm to cover his eyes. The boys reached the entrance before they knew it, the bell chiming as they walked in and took a seat at one of the corner tables. This time though, this time it’s different, usually it would be Pete and Patrick next to each other at one table, but on this occasion Pete squashes up next to Andy at the seat across from Patrick and he frowns at Pete like he’s trying to ask a question without words. 

Despite the confusion he takes his seat, Joe comes in after him a bit too soon and their bodies crash together. Patrick pays it no mind though, his mind still too tired to form the proper response.

The waitress comes over quicker than Patrick thought she would, bleach blonde hair and shining teeth in tow. 

“Welcome to Arby’s, what can I get for you guys today?”

Patrick looks over at Pete, he’s usually the one that has the initiative to order for the rest of the group. Pete smiles up at the waitress and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and mulls over his answer.

“We’ll just get three milkshakes, thanks hon.”

Patrick draws his eyebrows together as Pete finishes the order and the waitress makes her way to the back of the diner.

“Why’s there only three milkshakes?”

“Because you two,” Pete points at both Joe and Patrick, “are sharing one.”

It’s not that Patrick wants to share a milkshake with Joe or that he thinks he can’t argue with Pete, it's just that he’d rather save himself from it, Pete is not known to give up easily.

“Fine.” Patrick huffs out a breath and crosses his arms as he waits for the order to come.

What confused Patrick more than the fact that Pete wanted to make Joe and Patrick share a milkshake was that Joe didn’t even argue with Pete, not a word. And so while he’s thinking of a list of reasons as to why Joe Trohman would be okay with sharing a milkshake with him he doesn’t notice the waitress come back with a silver tray in hand until the tray reaches the table and he’s snapped out of thought.

“Here’s your order, have a good day.”

“ _You_ have a good day.” Pete says back to the waitress as she takes her leave, his smile reaching from ear to ear.

“God you’re so gross.” Patrick makes fake throwing up sounds to voice his disapproval and Joe joins in. Pete just keeps grinning as if he didn’t hear a thing they said.

The drink is chocolate and full to the brim, almost spilling over the lip of the glass. Patrick takes one more look at it before turning his gaze to Joe, Joe who he’s going to have to share this with soon and he’s not sure how that’s going to make him feel. Patrick grabs two straws from the nearest tray and tears at the wrappers before putting them in the glass. He sighs before leaning forward and taking the first sip from the glass and then pulling back. It tastes good, really good, and he tells Joe just that.

Joe looks at Patrick before taking his first sip and nodding in agreement after pulling back and smiling like he had before when they were loading up the van, except this time his smile is bigger and more obvious, harder to hide, and it pulls at his eyes. They look at each other one more time before both going in to take a sip, their noses bump together and they both blush as they stare at each other over the rim of the glass.

After they both retreat from the glass at the same time, Patrick can’t help the smile that he feels tugging at his face as he averts his eyes to look at his beat up converse as he scuffs them against each other under the table. 

“Look at you two.” Patrick is reminded that there are other people there when he hears Pete’s voice.

“What do you mean?” Patrick sputters.

“You guys look good together.” Pete smirks at the two of them this time.

“Huh?!” Patrick is mad, beyond mad, he bets that this was all just a part of Pete’s scheme to embarrass him.

“Were you in on this too?” Patrick glares at Joe for the second time today, it’s only 8am but he’s fully awake now.

“What? No?” Joe looks back at him in shock. “Why would I _want_ to share one with you?”

Patrick feels like a stake has been struck between his chest, right between his heart and his lungs and he can’t breathe, his lungs begin to burn and he can sense the familiar bitter feeling.

Patrick’s running to the bathroom before anyone can say anything, the door swinging open and closed in a matter of seconds before being locked.

Patrick heaves, his body shaking and his chest aching, as he reaches to grab for the porcelain lip of the sink. Patrick clenches it between his hands, his hands starting to hurt from his tight grip on the white edge of the sink, his knuckles start to turn the same colour as the sink. His palms are clammy and his breathing is stuttered as his mind races.  
  


Patrick tries to slow his breathing down, he tries to use the same technique that the therapist he visited once taught him, 5-4-3-2-1. Five things he could see, four things he could touch, three things he could hear, two things he could smell, one thing he could taste. It worked well enough to bring him back to his senses.

With his breathing coming to a slow pace he stared up at his reflection, the mirror was smudged with memories of strangers, cracked with moments of the past. He stared into his own eyes, mentally preparing himself to go back out.

It was so stupid, Patrick knows that he overreacted, he knows that he shouldn’t have been offended by Joe’s remark, he knows that he should’ve laughed it off and said,

“Good one, Joe.”

But he couldn’t bring himself to. This time it was different for some reason. This time he cared about what Joe had to say and it scared him to death because he couldn’t figure out why he did.

With one last long and drawn out breath Patrick unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom. He headed towards the table, it had been renewed with conversation and from afar he could hear them debating over whether The Outsiders was a good movie or not.

“But the message is about _friendship_ , Joe, it’s meant to be like that.”

“Well I think it’s _stupid_ ,” Joe scoffs, “What’s the moral of the story anyway? Don’t be from a low socioeconomic area so that you don’t end up on the run from the police after your friend accidentally kills someone in self defense?”

Pete rolls his eyes back but doesn’t respond to Joe, Patrick thinks he made a fair point. As he makes his way back over to the table Patrick can feel their eyes on him as they all look up.

“Where’d you go off to so fast?” Joe raises an eyebrow to go with his question.

“Just to the bathroom, I thought I was gonna puke for a second there. It must’ve been all the Chinese food from yesterday.” Patrick smiles sheepishly at the group as he slides back in next to Joe.

“So… What were you guys talking about?” The conversation continues as the boys carry on with their discussion in a small diner in the middle of nowhere.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was raining today and it gave me the inspiration to finally add more to this fic :)

Patrick takes in slow, sharp breaths and watches as the warmth from his lungs fogs up the back window of the van. He presses his finger against the pane of glass and starts tracing little stars, his finger left cold and wet with morning dew. Everything’s quiet today, too quiet, and Patrick isn’t sure whether he should feel comforted or unsettled by it.

It’s been a few days since the diner incident and things have returned back to normal between him and Joe, Patrick tries to forget the way Joe’s nose bumped against his over the rim of the glass but nothing seems to make the memory fade, it’s too strong and he has a feeling it won’t be the last one to make such a mark.

Patrick is up before the birds this morning (which is unusual because Patrick despises being up before midday) and he can’t find a way to make himself fall back to sleep. 

Patrick feels sick as his head spins from sitting up too quickly and he gives himself a moment to take in the stillness of the van, there’s no sign of life and the only reminder that he’s not the only person alive is the rhythmic rise and fall of chests belonging to the three boys that Patrick calls his friends.

Patrick makes a move to start heading towards his duffel bag so that he can grab his music, it might make him fall asleep he thinks.

Patrick crawls along the carpeteted floor of the van, unprotected knees scraping against the rough material, and he wobbles on the one knee that he finds himself leaning on. Before he knows it he’s on the floor of the van again, his breath suddenly escaping him as his whole body makes contact with it. Patrick’s body tenses as he feels an arm land on his side.

“Joe…?” Patrick can’t tell whether Joe’s awake or not but he thinks it’s worth the effort.

Suddenly, he feels himself being pulled closer to Joe and he can feel the way Joe is feverish against his back. Patrick tries to escape his embrace but his arms are wrapped too tightly around him and eventually Patrick feels himself being lulled into a sense of security. 

Patrick considers waking Joe up but he decides against it when he realises that this might not be so bad. Joe murmurs against his neck and Patrick stills at the way he can feel Joe’s breath running along the side of his neck. 

Patrick takes in a shallow breath and allows himself to sink further into Joe’s arms. 

“Night, Joe.” Patrick smiles under his breath to himself.

**********

Patrick wakes up to commotion. His mind hasn’t caught up yet and the words sound like gibberish and they remind him of when he would be woken up to the soft words of his mom and he couldn’t quite understand what she was saying. 

He blinks with bleary eyes and squints between his fingers as the sun begins to warm the van up.

“ _You_ were the one cuddling with him not me!” Pete says with a laugh in his voice.

Joe blushes all the way up to the tips of his ears at the comment.

“It’s not my fault, I was asleep!” 

Patrick looks over to where he hears the conversation coming from.

“What are you guys talking about?” Patrick says with a yawn.

“Nothing!” Joe yells in response almost too fast not to sound suspicious.

“Joe was totally spooning you, dude.” Pete grins at Patrick.

Patrick’s face matches the same shade of red as Joe’s in that moment and he hopes that no one notices.

“Huh?” He peers over at Joe with wide eyes and mock shock. Of course Patrick remembers, how could he forget how Joe, although sleeping and unconscious, pulled him against him and hugged him so hard he almost couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t tell them that though, could he?

“I’m so sorry Patrick, I didn’t mean for it to happen, really.” Joe says, his voice peaking with embarrassment.

“It’s okay man, you were asleep, weren’t you?”

“What? Yeah, obviously.” Joe’s face puffs up at that and he looks away to stare at his feet. Patrick can’t help but smile at that.

A new conversation breaks out between the three boys but Patrick isn’t paying attention anymore. He couldn’t help but notice how the sky was finally releasing days of unrelenting rain. Patrick loves the rain so much, he loves the way it makes everything quiet, how noise ceases to exist in such conditions and how he can hear it hitting the roof of the van.

He remembers wrapping himself in blankets back in Chicago at their small and dingy apartment and watching the rain from his window, the others would complain about how Patrick would leave his window open because it would send the cold into the rest of the house but Patrick couldn’t find it in himself to care. He would watch it everytime it came just to see the way it would hit the pavement and make puddles. The rain made other people miserable but it was one of the only times Patrick truly felt alive.

Patrick stares at it longingly before going to unlock the back doors of the van. He pulls them open slowly and with care, as he makes sure not to alert the others, and makes his way out onto the asphalt of the parking lot. 

Patrick’s chest swells with something he can’t identify as he steps out into the rain, its cold flurry enveloping him but Patrick doesn’t mind it at all. He feels so peaceful, so tranquil, under the grey sky and he almost wants to cry with how it feels so nice against his skin, _almost_. 

Patrick can see people hurrying to get into their cars, the rain bringing a sense of urgency that Patrick doesn’t understand himself. He tilts his head back so he can stare at the sky, Patrick sees birds racing to get back to their nests, their wings almost too heavy to carry them. 

The rain is numb against his skin now but he can still smell it, it makes him _feel_ , he doesn’t know what it makes him feel but he likes it, it’s almost like the world understands him when it rains. It’s like the sky is letting out all its sorrows so it can feel better again the next day and Patrick understands that all too well (e̶x̶c̶e̶p̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶f̶e̶e̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶b̶e̶t̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶p̶a̶r̶t̶). He can’t stop the grin that makes its way to his lips, his lips that are now wet and parted as he watches the turmoil above him unfold.

“Hey guys, where’s Patrick?” Patrick can barely hear Joe speaking, the sound of the rain dashing out the sound of his voice.

Someone must’ve pointed at him because he can feel the group’s eyes on him now.

“Patrick!” He can hear Joe’s voice louder than it was before. Patrick turns his head to look back into the van.

“What are you doing out there?” Joe is scrunching his eyebrows together now.

“The rain.” Patrick calls back.

“The rain?” 

Patrick looks back to the sky again, “I like the way it makes me feel.” Patrick realises that his words could mean two different things.

“If you don’t come in soon you’ll catch a cold.” Joe frowns at him.

Patrick looks away again and tries to ignore him.

“Come on.” Joe is stepping out of the van now and Patrick is confused.

“But why? I’m enjoying the rain.” Patrick pouts and he watches as the water starts to seep into Joe too.

“Because if you don’t and you get sick everyone is going to blame me.”

Patrick thinks about Joe’s words for a second, “Why would they blame you?”

Joe’s eyes widen in realisation, “Don’t worry about it just come inside.”

Patrick can feel Joe pressed against his back again, he’s warm and grounding against the wet and cold fabric that sticks to Patrick’s back and it reminds Patrick of how Joe did the same thing only hours ago. Joe pushes him forward with his chest as he walks and Patrick thinks it’s completely unnecessary as he does but he secretly revels in the warmth.

Patrick soon finds himself toppling into the van again, Joe falling in on the other side of him, and he mutters something about how lame Joe is as he does.

Joe shakes his head like a dog and Patrick squeals in response, he actually _squeals_. 

“That’s what you get for making me go into the rain.” Joe tries to look mad as he says this but he’s failing and Patrick can see the softness in the corners of his eyes.

Patrick can’t hold back the laughter as he sees the state that Joe’s hair is in, even though it’s not that long it’s now hanging damply on his face, curly strands sticking out here and there in an unkempt manner.

“I’m gonna get you, Stump!”

“Try me, Trohman!” 

Patrick jumps back out again in the rain, he’s challenging Joe. 

“You think I won’t get out there again and bring you back in?” Joe takes the bait quicker than Patrick thought he would.

“If you don’t bring me back to the van within thirty seconds you have to let me keep that guitar you let me borrow.”

Joe full on _smirks_ this time, Joe that has a lisp and smokes weed to be cool, “But if I do?”

“I’ll do whatever you ask me to do for a week.” Patrick is confident that he’ll win, he has faith in the speed of his short legs.

“Deal.” Joe nods.

Patrick gives Joe three seconds before he’s off and reaching into the far corner of the parking lot. Patrick underestimated Joe’s determination, he brought him back in twenty.


	3. Chapter 3

Patrick wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen when he agreed to do anything that Joe had asked him to do for a week but it definitely wasn’t this. For seven days now he’s been Joe’s personal packhorse, after performances Joe would ask him to put his gear away, when they stopped at gas stations Joe made him run in and buy him something and when they had the occasional hotel night Joe made him carry all his stuff into the building. 

It actually wasn’t half as bad as Patrick had expected it to be but now that the last day of Joe’s reign over Patrick has come Patrick is the most scared he’s been in years. He knows that Joe has something else up his sleeve, it couldn’t just be something as simple as carrying his stuff around and being an errand boy.

Right now they’re in a small arcade together and trying to beat each other's high scores (Pete and Andy are nowhere to be found), it’s silly but it makes Patrick feel so giddy that he gets more time to hang out with Joe. His palms are sweaty as he wraps them around the arcade machine’s joystick and Patrick has to remind himself that he’s with Joe, Joe who he talks about Star Wars and Queen with (Joe really seems to like Queen for some reason) and that there’s no reason to get so worked up about hanging out with Joe when Joe’s just as much of a nerd as he is.

“Hey, Patrick.” Joe’s voice is so quiet over the noise of the arcade (among the sound of teenage boys yelling and the shooting of guns from their new favourite game) and Patrick has to look at him fully to hear him properly, the lights from the machine blinding him temporarily as he does.

“What is it, man?” 

Joe swipes a tongue across his parted lips and proceeds to say, “Come with me for a second to the van, I’ve got something that I wanted to show you.”

Patrick fears for his life but nods in confirmation.

“Alright, just give me a second.” He turns back to face the machine, his mind is jumbled now and he can’t focus on the game. Fuck, escaping barrels from a throwing monkey has never been harder.

Patrick throws his hands down on the surface of the machine and curses under his breath, the red ‘game over’ sign glaring red against his face as he sighs in frustration.

“Okay I’m ready now.” 

The two head out the sliding doors of the arcade and make their way back to the van hurriedly, Joe really wants them to get back fast for some reason and that worries Patrick even more.

As the back door of the van comes into view Patrick can hear his heart in his ears and his palms gaining the same sticky feeling from before. The tar is scratching against the underside of Patrick’s converse and it’s the only thing keeping him distracted enough from falling into a complete panic.

Joe reaches the van doors before Patrick and pulls both doors open. Patrick can see that it’s dark inside and Joe is soon covered in the darkness as he lifts himself into the vehicle.

“You coming in?” Joe looks over at Patrick again, he’s a good ten feet away from the van.

Patrick nods for the second time today and swallows the lump in his throat. Patrick is marching to his death and he knows it.

“Tell my mom that I love her.” Patrick whispers to himself.

“Huh?” 

“I said I’m coming.”

Patrick climbs in slowly, two hands balanced on either side of his body as he hoists himself up. Joe is seated in a dark corner of the van.

“Close the doors behind you.”

Patrick’s heart stops in his throat but he does as Joe says with great reluctance. He crawls over to the corner that Joe is seated in on his hands and knees.

“So… Why’d you bring me here?” Patrick is hesitant to ask but he wants to get straight to the point.

Joe gives him a wide grin and Patrick thinks he’s actually going to have a heart attack this time.

“Well I thought that maybe you’d want to…” Joe trails off like he’s considering something before he turns around, his back facing Patrick, and starts scrambling around on the floor of the van.

“Joe? What are you doing?”

“Just give me a minute, I’m looking for something.”

Joe turns back around suddenly but this time he’s holding the guitar that he lended to Patrick for the tour.

“Why’ve you got the guitar? Do you want me to play you a song?” Patrick continues, “Cause, like, I can if you want me to, I’d just have to find-”

“You can keep it.” Patrick can hear the smile in Joe’s words.

“Huh?” Patrick is the one saying it now.

“I said you can keep it.”

“But I thought since I lost the bet I don’t get to?” Patrick is confused now, given how possessive Joe is over his guitars and because he lost the bet.

“And I’m saying that it doesn’t matter and I want you to have it.”

“Joe, you really don’t have to.”

“But I want to.” There’s that word again, want, but this time Joe is using it differently from the last time Patrick heard it. Joe is pouting and he looks like a puppy dog right now, like a really fluffy and adorable puppy dog and Patrick can’t deny Joe when he looks like that.

“Fine.” Patrick huffs in defeat because he knows he can’t win.

“Good.” It seems like today is the day for one word answers.

Patrick startles when he feels something touch his shoulder only to realise that it’s Joe’s hand. Another one of Joe’s hands settles on his other shoulder and Patrick doesn’t understand what’s going on until Joe is wrapping both arms around Patrick’s shoulders.

“Oh.” Patrick thought to himself.

Joe’s embrace was warm and it reminded Patrick of when only a week ago an unconscious Joe had done something like this too. But this was an awake Joe, a very awake Joe sitting across from him and pulling Patrick to his chest. 

“Just… Stay here for a bit, won’t you?” Joe’s voice is quiet like it was in the arcade. His voice is so small in comparison to his usual loud and boisterous personality so it surprises Patrick.

Patricks hums and smiles into Joe’s shoulder, “Who said I wouldn’t?” 

Patrick realises that he should probably reciprocate the hug so he lifts his arms and puts them around Joe’s middle.

“We should do this more, I think.” Patrick is talking mostly to himself so he doesn’t expect it when he hears Joe’s voice in response.

“I agree.” Joe’s arms tighten.

Patrick slumps into Joe’s hold and listens as the traffic passes by on the near road, he listens to Joe’s breaths and the way he can hear Joe’s heart beating against his chest, the rhythmic thump beating against his ear making his eyes fall as he presses it above Joe’s heart. 

“Why are you so warm?” Patrick murmurs against Joe’s chest.

“Because I’m wearing a hoodie, unlike someone else.” Patrick imagines that Joe is giving him a pointed look right now.

The two fall back into a comfortable silence again.

“Hey, Joe?” Patrick takes his head away from where it was resting against Joe’s chest and looks up at Joe.

“Yeah?”

Joe’s looking at Patrick now and Patrick has suddenly lost his train of thought. So it just goes like that, the two of them staring at each other like a challenge that hasn’t been spoken yet and Patrick can feel Joe’s breath fanning out against his face now. 

Joe’s quiet now too and Patrick can feel as they start to shift towards each other, something pulling them together, like two magnets drawn together, except they’re not actually magnets and they’re two boys that haven’t showered in days (maybe even weeks) hugging in the back of a van and Patrick is just using cheesy metaphors to describe something so surreal.

Patrick decides, screw it, he can be cheesy if he wants to, he’s nineteen and he’s never even been considered as a romantic interest before (not that this situation happens to be romantic at all).

Patrick doesn’t realise how close he and Joe are until he stops zoning out and he can almost feel the tip of Joe’s nose against his own. Patrick can feel his body start to heat up (despite not wearing a hoodie) and he wonders if he could die from being so warm. He’s shaking now and he’s not sure if it’s from fear, excitement or anticipation.

“Hey.” Joe speaks softly and gazes at Patrick, it’s so gentle that it makes Patrick want to look at him too.

“Hey.” Patrick says back.

Their foreheads are touching now as they lean against one another, daringly close, both scared to say too many words as if it’ll break the moment.

Suddenly, light is filtering through the back doors of the van and both Patrick and Joe jump back from each other.

“Hey guys we’re back. Did you miss us? I bet you did. What were you up to?” Pete is the first to appear in the light, his words reaching his mouth faster than Patrick’s mind has time to form thoughts. Andy comes next with a few words (Patrick’s heart is racing too fast for him to hear) but Andy’s always been like that, he only ever speaks much when he thinks something will be funny or important.

Patrick ignores Pete’s questions and looks over at Joe to see what he’s doing. He can’t see Joe’s face because he’s looking the other way. Patrick chews his bottom lip between his teeth in annoyance, they just had to come back at this time.

“I gotta go do something.” Joe mumbles as he stands up next to Patrick.

Joe leaves Patrick in the van with a guitar in his hands and butterflies in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if i’m moving the story along too fast or not but i wanted to start getting into more stuff :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been sitting in my google docs for like 2 months and i just wanted to get it out :)

Patrick and Joe find themselves in the back of the van after they’ve finished loading up their instruments, Pete and Andy still inside the building where they performed and talking to the kids that came to their show. 

The tension is heavy between the two, the silence weighted, Patrick doesn’t know how to break it. Usually it would be banter between him and Joe, they would easily pull joke after joke but this time it’s different and he knows why. Patrick swallows the lump that starts to slowly rise in his throat. 

“You looked good at the show today- I mean you did good at the show today…”

Patrick can’t help but to fumble with his hands as he thinks about how he messed up the beginning of the sentence, how Joe heard him say that and he can’t take it back because it’s already out in the open.

“I- I didn’t mean the first one, I meant to say the second and I’m not saying that you’re not attractive because you definitely are and I know there’s tons of guys and girls out there lining up just to steal a few seconds with the Joe Trohman and wait I just realised by saying guys it implies that you would be willing to kiss guys and you might not even be attracted to guys and it’s just- oh god I’m talking too much again aren’t I, well yeah I was just trying to-“

Patrick’s words are cut off, short and fast, by Joe’s lips as they capture his own. He can feel his face heat up, his cheeks starting to grow warm as he breathes against Joe. Patrick doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he leaves them up and his eyes wide. Joe pulls away after not receiving a response from Patrick.

“Um, I’m sorry I just…” Joe looks away to the frayed blue carpet that lines the floor of the van, the intensity of his blush putting Patrick’s to shame. 

“What was that for?” Patrick is surprised by the loudness of his own voice.

“It was to make up for earlier, I thought maybe… I figured that if I really wanted to do it then you might feel the same.” The red on Joe’s face rises and he sports the same sheepish grin that Patrick wore at the diner.

“It’s okay. It’s just- I’ve never…”

“Oh.”

Joe is suddenly looking back over at Patrick with a wide eyed gaze like he hadn’t expected that answer from him.

“So you’ve never…?”

“No.”

The blush on Patrick’s face reignites with a new intensity.

“How was I then? For your first kiss?”

“I don’t know I-” Patrick doesn’t think his words through this time, “Can we try it again?”

The words are out of Patrick’s mouth before he can take them back.

“Yes.” Joe breathes back with fervour and Patrick is surprised by the intensity of it.

Patrick is ready this time, ready as Joe hovers closer to his face, his lips, Patrick can feel Joe’s breath against his face and the way he gazes down at his lips, a hand reaching down to settle on his waist. Patrick is the one that leans in first this time, compelled purely by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Their lips meet slow, so slow compared to how fast Joe was doing it last time, Patrick’s heart only beating faster in his chest as he reaches up to wrap his arms around Joe’s neck. Patrick isn’t sure what he’s doing but he must be doing something right because Joe doesn’t complain, even when they both start to run out of oxygen and Patrick can feel a burning in his lungs (a familiar feeling, so familiar, but in this situation so out of place). 

They both gasp as they separate from the kiss, swallowing in air like they’re greedy for it and they haven’t tasted it on their tongues in so long. Patrick feels warm all over and lightheaded (like he is after concerts, except this time he thinks it will last longer).

And then they’re connecting again, forgetting that everything around them exists, and Patrick feels like they’re the only two people in the universe at that moment. He can feel a hand, warm and soft, reaching up to cup the side of his face and he leans into it to voice his approval. He can feel fingers reaching up to tangle into the strands of his hair that are long enough to grab onto. And he can feel Joe, Joe on his mouth and in the air and Joe breathing words into him that he doesn’t have to say anymore because this moment is enough to explain it.

Joe Joe Joe Joe Joe Joe Joe Joe Joe. The voice inside his head won’t stop chanting that name. The butterflies are swarming in his stomach, up into his chest and they’re now settled in his throat, he feels like doesn’t need to breathe anymore, like just sharing the air with Joe is enough to survive (the logical part of Patrick’s brain tells him that that’s stupid but he disagrees). 

And suddenly they’re apart again and Patrick feels naked in the aftermath, his hat having been lost somewhere during the time they spent kissing. Patrick starts looking for it with frantic eyes, feeling too exposed in Joe’s gaze, his eyes burning so intensely as he looks at Patrick. The cap blends in with the carpet, the same shade of frayed blue, and Patrick stares at it as Joe lifts it up off the ground.

“Looking for this?” Joe smiles softly at Patrick, the way he’s looking at him is so gentle in contrast to the intense gaze that he was giving him before. 

Patrick moves closer to Joe, reaching for the hat as he does and being disappointed when Joe pulls it away from his grasp.

“Come on.” Patrick pouts as he begins to crawl over Joe’s legs in an attempt to reach the hat. Patrick can feel himself losing balance as he trembles on one knee, his arm outstretching to reach the cap.

And suddenly he’s falling into Joe’s lap, they find themselves pressed chest to chest and Patrick’s heart leaps as he feels the way one of Joe’s hands reaches around him to rest at the small of his back. Joe lowers the cap from where he was holding it out of Patrick’s reach and pulls the cap down on Patrick’s head with care and tilts it to the side. 

“You look adorable.” Joe grins at him like a cheshire cat and Patrick’s heart stutters and his body pools with feelings at the compliment, soft and fuzzy feelings. He’s too stunned to respond to it.

Joe kisses his nose, Patrick’s blush tinting his face sunburnt red, and then rests his face between Patrick’s neck and shoulder. Patrick can feel himself start to relax into Joe’s embrace and Joe starting to slowly lean back against the wall of the van under his weight. They lay there like that for minutes, simply listening to the sound of each other breathing while Joe moves his arms up to wrap around Patrick’s middle. 

There’s nothing sexual about the situation and Patrick’s glad for that because he wouldn’t know what to do if there was. Patrick feels so safe and warm and loved and he knows that Joe might not feel the same way about him but in that moment he can’t seem to care at all because he’s finally home.

**********

Joe presses his mouth to Patrick’s hair and murmurs, “Why’s your hair so shiny? What’s the secret?”

Patrick lifts his head up from where it’s leaning against Joe’s chest and whispers, “I use this really special hair product that’s only found in a few countries around the world and it’s really rare.”

“Really?” 

“Dude,” Patrick stops for a second, “I’m pulling your leg, it's just a bottle of conditioner from Walmart.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! this is one of my first fanfictions in a few years so please bare with me while i figure it out. feedback is very helpful and some suggestions on what you would like to see in the story would be good too :)


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